


Red Hot and Blue

by glasgow_blue



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-08
Updated: 2004-11-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:32:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glasgow_blue/pseuds/glasgow_blue





	

Title: Red Hot and Blue  
Pairing: Dom/Viggo  
Rating: G  
Word Count: 200  
Disclaimer: I. Am. Making. This. Shit. Up.  
Archive: Please ask.

This is a remix of [](http://glasgow-blue.livejournal.com/15022.html#)[**fujitivehound**](http://glasgow-blue.livejournal.com/15022.html#)'s [ Red Means Stop](http://www.livejournal.com/users/fugitivehound/146620.html) which was originally written for [lotrpschallenge #13](http://www.livejournal.com/community/lotrpschallenge/12649.html). Flipped perspective. Common elements.

"I can't do this anymore."

At first, Viggo thinks the statement refers to the moment at hand. Dom's twitchy and restless, frenetic at times. Sitting for a portrait is hard for even the most placid of people.

But when he looks up from the canvass and catches the set of Dom's mouth--the downward cast of both posture and eye--he knows it's bigger. Knows it translates to _can't take you anymore_.

They're familiar words. Exene shouted them once, punctuating the sentiment with an empty gin bottle aimed at his head. Viggo ducks reflexively, even now.

This is the last time Dom's going to come.

Viggo nods. Grunts at his subject. Squirts more Claret #64 onto his palette and begins a series of furious strokes. Stuffs the brush into his mouth, takes up another, and begins to mix Silver and Azure and Cerulean for Dom's eyes.

Back comes the Claret for cheek bones and shoulders. For a skewed heart set off-center.

"Did you hear me?"

Viggo nods. "Yes. I'm sorry. Don't move your chin."

Saffron and Winter--for the sunlight streaming in. Splotches of Claret on his jeans. On bare feet. On hands. Lips.

He trades the brush for fingertips.

 

 


End file.
